Rune Mage [Fantasy/Adventure | Book 1 +2 | Complete]

Chapter 3: A Cocky Shorty

Seiren scowled, readying to thrash whoever dared to interrupt her punishment of the Hannan rogue.

Why didn't you tell me there was another?

Were you even listening to me? No? Madeleine snorted.

Seiren ignored her and the Hannan's groans, which seemed to have stifled somewhat. Descending the steps was a short figure in state mage uniform: a midnight black cloak lined with a silky material that seemed to emulate all colours of the rainbow, supposedly to reflect the various colours magic took on when they activated. Behind him were two lackeys, not state mages, dressed in military uniform with stocky caps, a vomit-green shirt and trouser combination and black leather boots. A meagre few medals decorated their chests. A man and a woman, both at least a head taller than the mage. Probably security to protect the tiny state mage. Even she could probably outrun him. Heck, she could probably take him on in a fight.  

You do not want to be caught punching in the face of the bloody state mage, Seiren Harred.

"Don't—" Seiren bit out loud and then caught herself. Sucking in a heavy breath, she snapped at Madeleine, Don't call me by that name!

"Excuse me?" The state mage cocked his head. He sounded too young for someone in such a senior position. He stood across the cracked, runed floor from Seiren, watching her over the trembling Hannan man. The mage probably didn't even come up to Seiren's chin.

When she didn't answer, the mage pulled his hood back, revealing short black hair above a face that didn't look older than eighteen, but Seiren knew he must be older than that to be a fully qualified state mage. Curious, bright blue-green eyes met hers before taking in the surroundings: the grounded train, the trail of destruction from the summoning, the demon – now dead, the remnants of her runes, and the Hannan, who seemed to have quietened down, realising what a predicament he was in.

"You seem to have left quite a trail of destruction in your wake, lady," called the mage. Seiren's eyes flickered. She'd heard of this man before. The short mage who'd recently been allotted a seat in the city capital, a much sought-after role due to its proximity to the city central and involvement with the country's running. Many mages would have killed for his seat. "What's your name? I am—"

"Rowan Woodbead. I know who you are. You're the newly-appointed Benover state mage."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm surprised such a young girl knows of me."

"I'm surprised such a short guy could make it as state mage."

He flushed, his eyes flashing. His two subordinates jumped, looking horrified. Seiren kept an impassive face, observing him take several breaths before cracking out the most forced smile she'd ever seen, one which barely left his lips, never mind reaching his eyes. Behind him, one subordinate poked furiously at a communication device, a violet rune gleaming on its back. Beside her, the other subordinate, the male, cast curious glances at the machine before returning to the scene at hand.

"I wouldn't be so blasé about insulting state mages, little girl. We are the backbone of this country, after all, with important duties that keep everyone safe and the country functioning."

"I'm well aware of what state mages do, Rowan."

"That's Mage Woodbead to you."

Seiren pressed her lips shut. Rowan shook his head, pressing a hand to his temple, before brushing it over his head in a dramatic sweep.

"This man – did you inflict these injuries on him?"

"I wouldn't call them injuries."

"Oh? What would they be, then?"